


a prayer in perfect piety

by time_breaker



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25586524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/time_breaker/pseuds/time_breaker
Summary: “Have you ever had sex?” Roddy asks him one night, the two of them sitting together on Deadlock’s couch and playing videogames.  Deadlock fumbles for his controller and drops it, startled.“Yeah,” he says.“Oh.”  Hot Rod stares down at his controller, flicking the nearest button underneath his thumb.OR, this scenario would not leave my head until I wrote it; blowjobs with my favorite boys, here you go!
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Hot Rod
Comments: 7
Kudos: 50





	a prayer in perfect piety

**Author's Note:**

> they r playing super smash bros because that is what they are gonna do in this fic

“Have you ever had sex?” Roddy asks him one night, the two of them sitting together on Deadlock’s couch and playing videogames. Deadlock fumbles for his controller and drops it, startled.

“Yeah,” he says.

“Oh.” Hot Rod stares down at his controller, flicking the nearest button underneath his thumb. On the screen, Zelda jumps up and down, over and over.

“You haven’t?” Deadlock is acutely aware of how careful he has to be here. Sure, Hot Rod might be leading, but he can’t assume anything. Can’t take advantage. Hot Rod’s too good for him  _ without  _ bringing sex into it.

“I kinda have.” Hot Rod sits back into his seat, his head dropping between his shoulders. “I had a girlfriend in highschool.”

“Whatcha mean  _ kinda?”  _ Deadlock sacrifices Ganondorf, waits for the announcement of  _ GAME!  _ before turning back to Roddy. “Like--” he wiggles his hand--  _ “made out  _ kinda?”

_ “No,”  _ Roddy laughs, shoving his shoulder. “She wanted to-- like, y’know, like, suck my dick--? Like that kinda.”

“Dear god, get thee to a nunnery,” Deadlock deadpans.

_ “Stop,”  _ Hot Rod orders, blushing. 

“So you’ve had a girl suck your dick. Was it any good?”

“It was good,” Hot Rod confirms, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “I wanted to help her get off, but I didn’t know how and she wouldn’t let me. I think a blowjob was just easier and quicker for her.”

“Makes sense,” Deadlock says. “And it only happened once?”

“She broke up with me like a month later. . . I don’t think she actually liked me that much.”

“Ah, such is highschool romance.”

“I’ve never  _ given _ a blowjob, though,” Hot Rod adds, and he glances over at Deadlock. “And I mean, I  _ know _ I’m bi even though I’ve never had sex with a guy, because I  _ like _ guys, but-- but I’ve never had sex with a guy.”

“You ever see another dude’s junk before?”

“At school, yeah. In the showers and stuff.” Hot Rod flushes again and looks down quickly. “I didn’t ever  _ look,  _ look. I wouldn’t.”

“You’re the last person I’d think who would,” Deadlock reassures him. And--  _ oh, wow, St. Augustine hear and answer the prayers of one horny motherfucker  _ because he was already getting hard just talking about this with Roddy.

“Yeah.” Roddy bites his bottom lip absentmindedly. “I wouldn’t know how to. I mean, it’s pretty obvious what you do. But I don’t know how it feels, or-- or like, how to do it.”

Deadlock watches him. “But do you. . .  _ want  _ to? Do it with other guys, I mean?”

“I wanna know what it feels like, yeah.” Hot Rod rubs the tips of his fingers together nervously. “Wanna do it with someone I like and trust.”

Well, that’s it for Deadlock. There’s no way in hell he’s pressing the matter after Hot Rod said something like that-- no matter _ how _ tight the ball of arousal winds itself in Deadlock’s belly. He sits back against the couch, disappointed, and picks up the controller again. He goes back to the home screen, starts flicking through the character selector. 

Hot Rod watches him.

“You want Zelda again?” Deadlock asks.

“I--” Roddy hesitates, and then picks up his own controller sullenly. “No.”

He picks Mewtwo. Deadlock picks Link. They fight on a stage of floating platforms surrounded by a sea of lava, and every two minutes a monster rises up and spins the stage, forcing them to jump around to stay on top. It’s harder than Deadlock is used to, and he suspects that Hot Rod may have picked this stage on purpose, to get back at him for. . . something. For  _ what,  _ Deadlock can’t guess. Hadn’t he been good? Hadn’t he refused to take advantage? 

Mewtwo strikes the killing blow; Link is shot to his death outside of the screen. Deadlock laughs out loud, exhilarated at how long it had taken for the fight to end. Hot Rod makes him feel--  _ something--  _ something hot and desperate and fast, like every sinew in his body is tensing, wanting the release, dying to be granted some relief. It has little to do with the stubborn tent in his sweatpants and everything to do with how much he wishes Hot Rod would just--  _ stay _ with him. 

“Nice,” he tells Roddy. “Maybe we can add a computer player next and go two-on-one--”

“I meant with you,” Hot Rod says suddenly.

Deadlock blinks at him. “What?”

“I--” Roddy hunkers lower in his seat self-consciously. “I like you. I trust you. I wanna do it. With you.”

Deadlock flounders for a minute. “. . . Really?” he says finally, 

Hot Rod startles a bit and glances over at him with those big eyes again. “I mean! Not if you don’t want to! I was just saying I’d like to, if you want to, it wasn’t a thing where you have to, or feel like you have to--”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Deadlock says. “I’d like to. If you want to.”

“I’d like to.” Hot Rod shifts, his eyes dropping to Deadlock’s crotch. “You’d have to show me how.”

Deadlock’s eyes widen. 

Roddy laughs a little, flushing again. “Sorry.”

“N-no, I’d. . . I’d like to show you.”  _ Fuck.  _ Okay. This is happening. Deadlock takes a deep breath. He can do this. This is what he’s thought about for pretty much months now, right? He can do this.

“You wanna see my dick?” he asks bluntly, setting the controller down. Might as well get the first bit out of the way.

Hot Rod grins shyly. “Yeah.”

“Cool.” Deadlock stands, awkwardly fishes for the shaft of it inside his loose pants, and pulls it out with a confidence he doesn’t quite feel yet. 

_ Shit.  _

Apparently, Deadlock’s dick had decided it was going to go ahead and wake up the rest of the way, standing at attention in his hand. Hot Rod doesn’t seem to mind, though. His eyes had fallen again as soon as Deadlock had stood up.

“You wanna touch it?” Deadlock mumbles.

“Yeah,” Hot Rod breathes. 

He shuffles forward on the couch and reaches out with a hand; his fingers touch Deadlock’s own, on his dick, and Deadlock makes a soft noise, almost against his will. 

Roddy seems to be in his element, at least. He looks fascinated as he strokes up and down Deadlock’s length. His grip is loose, but just firm enough that Deadlock trembles as he goes for his third stroke. 

“Can I--” Hot Rod says, wiggling closer to Deadlock from his seat. His ass is perched on the edge of the couch, and his knees poke up against Deadlock’s thighs. It’s an awkward position to be in, but at least they’re close. At least he’s  _ here,  _ with Deadlock. 

. . . Oh yeah. He’s being asked for permission to get a blowjob. 

“Y-you can,” Deadlock manages. “Just open your mouth.”

Hot Rod’s lips part, and he brings his mouth to the tip of Deadlock’s cock in the barest hint of a kiss. Deadlock groans out loud. 

Hot Rod smiles. “Just open my mouth?”

“Yeah,” Deadlock whispers.

Roddy does. Deadlock guides his cock inside very slowly, very carefully; Hot Rod’s lips close around it. His eyelashes flutter. He makes an eager little moan as he works his mouth around it.

“Roddy. . .” Deadlock says, and blindly reaches for Hot Rod’s hand. Hot Rod glances up at him as he takes his hand, curious. 

“Here,” Deadlock manages, and places his hand on the base of his dick. “What you can’t fit in your mouth, r-rub up and down.”

Roddy pulls off. “Good, because I don’t know how to deepthroat.”

That startles a laugh out of Deadlock. “We’ll save that lesson for later, huh?”

“Mm-hm,” Roddy says happily, and leans forward to take Deadlock into his mouth again. He looks as if he’s enjoying himself, which is good, because Deadlock  _ definitely  _ is, too. He groans again, his knees weakening a little, as Hot Rod swirls his tongue experimentally on the tip.

“Mmh?” Hot Rod asks, glancing up at Deadlock through his lashes.  _ Good?  _ he means. Deadlock nods shakily, swallowing. His hands don’t feel right hanging at his side, so he brushes the sides of Hot Rod’s head, asking silently.  _ Good? _

Hot Rod nods slightly, leaning into the touch.

Deadlock holds Roddy’s head, just steadying him, he hopes-- he’s still incredibly, painfully aware of how much he  _ cannot  _ take advantage of Hot Rod. He doesn’t want to hurt him. Or scare him. Roddy is too  _ good--  _ stupidly, blindly,  _ honestly  _ good. 

“Mmm,” he’s saying now, blissful, seemingly having gained his confidence to start sucking in earnest at what he can fit in his mouth, his hand working up and down at the base just like Deadlock had showed him. 

Deadlock’s fingertips dig into Roddy’s hair. The muscles in his thighs stiffen.

“That’s good,” he gasps. “You’re doing good.”

Hot Rod looks pleased, or as much as he really can with his mouth so occupied. He starts a little rhythm of back and forth, pulling on and off-- he must have seen that in porn, Deadlock surmises, but the origin of the move doesn’t really matter that much at this point. Deadlock tilts his head back and bites his lips, struggling to hold on.

“W-wait,” he says. Hot Rod pauses. “I’m-- close. I’m close. What do you want me to do when I--”

“Oh.” Hot Rod looks down at himself, at the orange hoodie he has on. “Lemme just take this off and you can--” He pulls it off with a quick motion. He’s not wearing another shirt underneath, and Deadlock’s cheeks flush. “Just finish on there? If you have a shower.”

“I-- yeah. I do.” Deadlock feels his hand start to move again, almost unconsciously. 

“Cuz I don’t know if I want to like, learn how to swallow and stuff right now.” Hot Rod grins, setting his hoodie aside. “Okay.”

He goes back in.

Hot Rod’s getting sloppy, but it’s just more of a turn on as he struggles to keep from drooling all over Deadlock’s cock and himself. Deadlock gets his hands back in Hot Rod’s hair, his breathing turning shaky again as Roddy gets back into his rhythm. He murmurs praise every so often, making Roddy hum happily. It’s a fun give-and-receive; the humming almost makes his vision white out every time. 

Eventually, Roddy’s noises start getting a little desperate; Deadlock notices him rubbing himself through his own pants, and that’s pretty much it for him. He pulls out of Roddy’s mouth and does a  _ very  _ good job of keeping quiet as he finishes himself off-- one, two, three hard pulls at his cock, breathing hard, and comes all over Roddy’s chest.

When he opens his eyes again, Roddy is sprawled out on the couch, looking dazed.

“Good?” Deadlock asks, putting his dick away and sitting down next to Roddy, putting a hand on his arm.

“Good,” Hot Rod confirms, staring up at the ceiling, wide-eyed.

Deadlock trails his fingers through the mess on Roddy’s chest. Mischievously, he leans forward and licks, swiping a wet trail across Hot Rod’s soft brown skin.

_ “Dude!”  _ Roddy yelps, swatting at him. 

“Well, you weren’t taking a shower, so I thought I’d help you out,” Deadlock says innocently.

“Asshole,” Roddy grumbles, but he reaches out and pulls Deadlock into a kiss anyway. He tastes like cum and even if it’s not particularly  _ nice,  _ Deadlock’s into it.

“Okay, I’ve got an unopened toothbrush in the bathroom if you want it,” he tells him, when they pull away. “And the shower takes a while to heat up, sorry. But-- wait, actually, let me go clean up the bathroom. You stay there.”

It takes him about ten minutes to get the bathroom in decent order, during which he hears Hot Rod start up the video game again and start playing single-player. Deadlock throws wads of toilet paper into the garbage, hides his weed in the cupboard (that’s something to bring up another time) and actually finds some sort of cleaner that works pretty well for getting the toilet to look nice. The shower, unfortunately, can’t be helped. 

“Okay!” he yells. 

Hot Rod comes to the door. The cum is tacky on his bare chest by now, and he keeps touching it absentmindedly. “D’you have towels?”

“Oh. Yeah, in here.” Deadlock retrieves one from the cupboard. “Anything else you need?”

Roddy smiles and shakes his head. “I’ll be out in a sec, okay?”

Deadlock spends his time absentmindedly finishing up the game that Roddy had left paused and coming to terms with the fact that, uh, he had just gotten to do the thing he’d been dreaming about doing ever since he’d  _ met  _ Hot Rod. And it had been fucking  _ fantastic.  _

Suddenly, all he wants is for Hot Rod to come back out so they could cuddle. And that’s  _ stupid,  _ he doesn’t-- doesn’t  _ cuddle  _ with people. But he wants to. With Hot Rod.

_ “Deadlock!”  _ comes an indignant shout from the bathroom. Hot Rod emerges, wrapped in a towel from the waist down and brandishing-- a bottle of soap?

“What the  _ fuck  _ is this?” Hot Rod hisses. He looks genuinely offended. “Do you use--” He actually gags. “Do you use fucking  _ five-in-one--?” _

“Uh. . .” Deadlock says. “Yes?”

Roddy’s eyes widen with holy rage, and Deadlock knows any plans he might have had to close this evening off with another round are done for.

It’s fine, though. He doesn’t mind a little fire. With Roddy, it’s part of the package deal.

.

**Author's Note:**

> Deadlock Has Become Catholic ✝️
> 
> Comments are appreciated uwu


End file.
